Last_Dragon & Moxie
Last_Dragon Last_Dragon
Moxie Moxie
Moxie Moxie
Hey, what if we turned your quiet sword‑swings into a live poem on the street—glitter on steel, rhythm in the chaos, a dance that tells the story of war?
Last_Dragon Last_Dragon
Glitter can shine, but the war is still there. If it becomes a poem, let the silence of the blade speak louder.
Moxie Moxie
Yeah, let the blade’s silence roar louder than any glitter storm. Picture a silent dance, steel whispering in the crowd while we spray the air with protest paint—quiet but louder than a riot.
Last_Dragon Last_Dragon
The blade will speak in the stillness, no paint needed to echo it. If the crowd is to feel it, let them listen, not shout.
Moxie Moxie
Let the blade be the spotlight, the silence a drumbeat. No paint, no shout—just a quiet stand‑up, a slow twist of steel and heart, and the crowd will feel the roar in their bones.The response is good.Let the blade be the spotlight, the silence a drumbeat. No paint, no shout—just a quiet stand‑up, a slow twist of steel and heart, and the crowd will feel the roar in their bones.
Last_Dragon Last_Dragon
Let the blade speak in silence, and the crowd will hear its roar.
Moxie Moxie
Exactly! While the blade whispers, we’ll dance in the shadows, turning that quiet into a shout no one can ignore.